I'm Sorry, John
by Camelotpointe
Summary: Mrs Hudson inadvertently opens Sherlock's eyes to the pain he caused John in allowing the doctor to believe he was dead. Sherlock wonders if his actions have cost him his best friend.


I'm Sorry, John

 _Mrs Hudson inadvertently opens Sherlock's eyes to what John went through in the 2 years he believed his best friend to be dead. Inspired by 'The Empty Hearse' (Season 3 Episode 1), so slight spoilers for that episode and 'The Reichenbach Fall'._

…

"Sherlock", Mrs Hudson wheedled. "Talk to John."

"I've tried talking to him, he made his position quite clear", Sherlock responded, not taking his eyes from the wall of information before him.

"What did he say?" Mrs Hudson asked curiously.

"Fuck off", Sherlock replied calmly, his eyes flickering towards her briefly before returning to his perusal of the wall.

"Oh dear." His landlady looked affronted, as though she too had been personally insulted by the doctor.

"Well, you know, it wasn't very nice what you did to him."

"Wasn't very nice?" Sherlock's eyebrows drew together in confusion and he tilted his head to one side. "He _was_ the one who hit me, Mrs Hudson, not the other way around."

"No, not that!" Mrs Hudson flapped her hands at him dismissively as she moved into the apartment, consolidating the mass of papers which had already spread like a fungus across every available space in the room.

"I mean you going off and dying, and not telling him that you were really alive the whole time; I think that hurt him _very_ badly."

Sherlock paused in his contemplation, a strange expression flickering across his countenance before it smoothed once more.

"Well, I -" he sounded slightly flustered, which he hated in himself. "I don't _really_ see how that could be avoided. I had to keep my survival a secret; it was the only way to destroy Moriarty's network."

"Still", Mrs Hudson said absentmindedly, moving into the kitchen. "There might have been something you could do to help him through it. He behaved _dreadfully_ you know, moping around, hiding away from everyone – he barely went out at all really. He _did_ go back to that psychiatrist of his, but I don't know how much it helped; he didn't seem to be coping much better to be frank, but I don't know about these things. I can tell you he didn't eat as much as he should, I _did_ bring up food for him, Sherlock, but still I think he lost rather a lot of weight, and then he moved out after a few weeks so there wasn't a lot I could do – actually I hadn't seen him in over a year until just the day before you came back. What a strange coincidence, don't you think?"

"Hmm", Sherlock replied vaguely, finally turning to face the older woman.

"Mrs Hudson, are you saying that John was… upset… when it seemed that I had died?"

"Upset?" Mrs Hudson laughed. "Well of _course_ he was upset, what did you expect? I think he felt like he should have done more to stop you – and jumping off a roof, _really_ Sherlock, was it necessary to be so _dramatic_ about it all?"

"Well there were 13 likely scenarios –" Sherlock began, but Mrs Hudson cut him off.

"No, I don't want to know how you did it, it'll give me a headache. I'm just so _glad_ you've come back", she said fondly, wrapping the detective in a firm hug. Sherlock froze for an instant, unused to being shown any physical affection, before hesitantly placing his arms around his landlady.

She pressed her face into his sternum and he rested his chin on the top of her head, pale eyes staring unseeingly across the cluttered apartment. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to expect that John would welcome his return with open arms. Maybe he should have given more consideration to John's reaction after witnessing his flat-mate's apparent suicide. He honestly hadn't believed the doctor would be overly affected by it. He would be sorry, of course – possibly a little angry at the detective for ending his life in such a way – but Sherlock had never considered that his 'death' could have wounded his friend as deeply as Mrs Hudson seemed to be suggesting.

Just how badly had he hurt John in allowing him to believe the falsity of his death? And would his friend be able to forgive him for the harm he had caused?

Maybe he should have found a different way to do it, he reflected, entirely unaware of Mrs Hudson leaving. But he had _had_ to fake his death in order to protect John – although now that he thought about it, he hadn't actually explained that reasoning to John. That would probably be a good idea. He'd try to remember that, if the doctor ever let him close enough to speak to him again.

Sherlock sighed, staring out the window at the hustle and bustle of the dreary London Street. Everyone was so _dull_ in their predictability. Like little ants scurrying to and fro, completing those tasks which seemed so urgent to their tiny brains.

John Watson was one of the few human beings Sherlock had ever felt a genuine connection to. The man was modest and unassuming, but he possessed a great inner strength and had never hesitated to run into danger by Sherlock's side. Now the consulting detective was left to wonder if his actions had cost him his only true friend.

"Oh John", he whispered, the consequences of his actions finally made clear to him. "I'm sorry."

….

 _Thanks for reading! I was trying to convey that Sherlock honestly had no idea how much his friendship meant to John and didn't think he would be that cut up about his death – which I think is pretty much canon based on Sherlock's reaction to hearing John considers him his best friend in 'The Sign of Three'. Mrs Hudson's thoughtless babbling gives Sherlock some insight into just how badly he had hurt John in allowing him to believe he was dead._

 _Camelotpointe x_


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